


Nurse Rogers

by thebearking



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gender-neutral Reader, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Gore, Mutant Reader, Mutual Pining, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: Steve takes care of you while you recuperate from the most recent mission. Some words just slip out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> reader has a regenerative healing factor like deadpool, so there are some mildly explicit details of injury and regeneration (more specifically, regrowing a severed foot).
> 
> this was requested on my tumblr, @pickledmoon.

It had been an hour since the team left for Kiev, leaving you and Steve behind. Steve had felt he should sit this one out and allow Bucky to prove himself as a potential team leader, while you were nursing day-old injuries. The previous mission had left you with a severed foot, dislocated shoulder, and multiple bullet wounds. Your powers served to quicken the healing process, and so your bullet wounds had all closed up nicely, but your shoulder was still stiff, and since your foot had been lost in the chaos of battle, you were left to regrow it from scratch. Even with your regenerative healing factor, a day of rest was necessary. You had a feeling Steve had stayed behind just to act as your personal nurse—he always looked guilty whenever he saw you hobbling off to the med bay after a mission—and Bucky had merely gone along with his best friend’s excuse.

Not that you were complaining. Granted, you were pretty high on pain medication—your healing factor did nothing to ease the pain of injury, perhaps even increased it—but having Steve at your beck and call was by no means a terrible experience. It was sweet how much he cared for you; you wondered if he gave the others treatment this special.

“Here, Y/N.” A glass of water appeared in front of you, attached to the hand of the man of your dreams. From your spot on the couch, you glanced up lazily at Steve to see him frowning down at you, his brow furrowed with worry. “Need to hydrate for that foot. How’s it look?”

You sat up and pulled back the fleece throw he had carefully arranged on your lower half. You then peeled off the dish towel wrapped around the end of your left leg, the stump of your foot sticking out grotesquely from your flannel pajama pants. By now, half of the foot had grown back. You should be able to wiggle your toes again by the end of the day. “Comin’ along OK. Hope my nails look alright. Honestly, they all looked pretty shitty when I lost Lefty.”

Steve’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a grin. “Lefty?”

You nodded, smiling with half-lidded eyes, your senses still clouded with the haze of morphine. “What, you _don’t_  name your limbs? Shame on you, Steven.” Thankfully, the slur had begun to edge out of your voice, so you sounded mostly intelligible. You wrapped the towel and the blanket back over your stump and accepted the glass from Steve.

Steve carefully lifted your legs and sat down beside you on the sofa. You withdrew your legs from your lap—even though the feeling of his hands rubbing your calves was amazing—to give him room… and so you could snuggle closer to him, your feet propped up on the coffee table. You took a large gulp of water and placed the glass next to your feet.

“What are we watching?” Steve piped up, leaning back into the back of the couch. You turned to watch him relax against the cushion, his chest sinking as he sighed deeply. After a moment’s hesitation, he draped his arm over your shoulders, and you nuzzled closer to him.

“Animal Planet.” Steve cast you a judgmental look. You stuck your tongue out at him. “ _River Monsters_  is my shit, but I am never going into the ocean again. Or any river. Or any lake. No body of water.”

Steve chuckled. “Except for your tub,” he quipped.

You smiled. “Except for my tub,” you confirmed, leaning your head against his shoulder and slipping into a comfortable silence.

* * *

Four hours later, you were still cuddled close to Steve, his arm around you, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. You tried to focus on Jeremy Wade scooping some ungodly creature out of the Amazon River and not on your unobstructed view of Steve’s chiseled jawline… or his impossibly long lashes… or his bright blue eyes…

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Steve,” you murmured, breaking yourself out of your stupor. “I thought you might stay cooped up in the gym all day.” That was a lie. You knew Steve had intended on caring for you since he first carried you from the quinjet last night. Still, you liked the sound of his voice, and you wanted him to talk to you.

Steve tousled your hair. “I’d rather take care of you, Y/N. You’re important to me. Teammates take care of each other.”

You smiled at that, though you couldn’t see how that was possible, how he could be fine with listening to your morphine-induced rants or wiping sweat from your brow when your body decided the best response to an infection was a fever. “Wouldn’t wanna miss that pretty face of yours,” you said. Alright, note to self: no hanging out with Steve while on pain meds. Apparently, there was enough morphine in your system to make you outright embarrass yourself in front of him. You peered up at him with a solemn expression. “You could’ve gone out on the mission, Steve. I would’ve been OK.” Another lie. You would’ve lounged on the couch all afternoon, text-messaging your complaints to Nat and to Sam when Nat got annoyed with you.

Steve laughed. “And miss out on spending the whole day with the love of my life? Never,” he said. And the moment his own words seemed to register in his head, he paled, the blood draining from his face and roaring in his ears.

You went rigid next to him, and you could feel Steve’s heart racing with panic. You scooted away from him, your eyes trained on his face. “What?”

“What?” he parroted helplessly.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t… say anything.”

“Steve?”

“You know, I think I’m going to go to bed. Night, Y/N.”

Before he could leave the couch, your hand lashed out and clamped around his wrist. “Steve, it’s five PM,” you deadpanned. Your grip on his arm loosened. “Why… Why would you say that?”

“Say what?”

“ _Steve_.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve sighed. “I… Well, it just came out. That’s all. I understand if you don’t—”

“Did you mean it?” you said softly. Your knees were touching his lap as you knelt next to him, ignoring the numbing ache in your mangled foot stub.

Steve turned to face you, and his eyes dropped momentarily to your mouth. “Yeah. I did. I mean it,” he said stiffly.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Without warning, you laughed, and Steve arched an eyebrow in confusion. “I didn’t think you felt that way about me,” you muttered. “I thought… Oh, my god, I didn’t know.”

“Y/N?” he said tentatively.

“Steve,” you murmured, eyes riveted to his as you swung one leg over his hip to straddle his lap, your hands alighting upon his shoulders, “I love you, too. Oh, my god, I love you, too, and I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I, uh… I didn’t know how you’d take it. I didn’t wanna ruin what we have together.” Carefully, he placed his hands on your hips. “If I’d known you love me back… God, I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Your eyes glistened almost hungrily. “You got that right,” you mumbled. You licked your lips before lunging forward into his lap, your mouth pressing to his in a kiss that took his breath away.

Steve wound his arms around you, holding you close, sighing against your lips. You pulled away, laughing when he chased after your mouth eagerly. “How about I make you my official caretaker? And I’ll be yours?”

Steve grinned. “Sounds good to me.”


End file.
